BLACKOUT

by Olivia Evans

  “Hi, I’m Gavin. A lot of you know me. I’ve been coming here for a long time, but I never shared my story until now. It’s, uh, it’s a lot harder to be on this side of the conversation.” He tugged on the collar of his shirt and wiped his palms down the front of his jeans. A sheen of sweat had formed around his hairline, and color bloomed under his pale skin.

  “Take your time,” Melissa said, giving him a reassuring smile. I wanted to scream at her. I wanted her to know what kind of monster she had sitting next to her. A monster that she chatted with week in and week out like he was some kind of goddamn saint for getting his uncle to let him use the space.

  “I’d just moved back to Atlanta for my job at Tech. I’d been at the campus getting paperwork and stuff together when I ran into the younger brother of one of my friends. He suggested the three of us go out for a drink. It sounded like a good idea, so we met up and went to a bar, had a few drinks. Well, I had a few drinks—my friend and his brother got wasted. Archer, my friend’s younger brother, somehow convinced us to go to a party on campus. He said it was a grad party, so most of the people would be a little closer to our age. I knew better than to go. It was stupid. I was about to start my new job there. The last thing I needed was to be caught partying with a bunch of students. But I also had a buzz and, honestly, I was worried about my friends going alone, so I went. It’s a decision I’ve regretted every day.

  “When we got there, the place was packed. You couldn’t even move. It took about ten minutes to lose my friends and about ten more for me to realize I had no business there. I was headed to the bathroom when this girl came out,” Gavin said, a hint of awe in his voice. I wanted to vomit. “She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Of course, I didn’t remember that until recently. But we’ll get to that part.”

  My throat tightened, and I wanted to bolt from my chair. I knew Bat could feel the tension coming off me because she gripped my hand impossibly tighter and moved her chair so close that our thighs were touching.

  “You’re okay.”

  No, I wasn’t. But she wasn’t asking; she was telling, and it gave me the strength to stay in place. For the moment, anyway.

  “I introduced myself and offered her a drink, but she said no. She told me it was a tequila shot kind of night. I can’t really tell you much else about that night. I’m not a big drinker, and I’m also pretty sure we did ecstasy. I’d never done anything harder than weed, so, yeah, the night is pretty blurry. The next thing I remember is some guy yanking me out of a bed somewhere in the house, telling me that I’d raped a girl.” Several gasps filled the room, and Gavin hung his head. Tears streamed down my face, and Bat murmured a quiet Fuck next to me.

  “I don’t remember. I grabbed my clothes, and he threw me out of the room. I didn’t want to leave. I dressed right there in the fucking hallway and ran. I think I threw up in the bushes in front of the house a dozen times. I don’t remember. His words were on a loop, and as fucked up as I was, I just couldn’t wrap my head around what he’d said. Could I really have raped someone? That’s not who I am—or so I thought. I somehow made it back inside and to the room, but I stopped when I heard her crying. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, and as shitty as it was, I bolted. I was drunk and high and fucking terrified. The next morning, I tried over and over again to remember what happened in that blank space, to remember her face or anything about that night that could help me make sense of it. But the memories were just gone. I started coming to these meetings because I wanted to help people. Because if what that guy said was true, I was a fucking monster. Coming here and listening to the awful things that happened to each of you was my penance. I deserved to be reminded over and over again what I did and how that girl must have felt. I would have given anything in the world to tell her how sorry I am. To beg her forgiveness. I’m telling my story now because I found out it was true. I still don’t remember doing it, but I believe her. I believe I did what she said I did because why would she lie? I’m telling my story now because you all deserve the truth. I’m telling you now because I promise never to show my face here again.”

  I got up and walked out without looking back. I’d heard enough. Bat followed behind me, her eyes filled with tears, and she crushed me to her chest. “Please tell me you two are fighting because you found out what he did. Please tell me it’s not because of anything else.” When I met her gaze, I knew the question she was asking. I gave her a sad smile and shrugged. I couldn’t speak. She understood.

  We walked in silence to my building, and when she followed me inside, I didn’t protest. Krista and Ethan were waiting on the couch when we walked through the door.

  “Hey, guys. I’m Bat. Do you mind if I walk Lonna back to her room?”

  Both nodded, their expressions stunned. I wasn’t sure what I looked like, but the way my life had been the last nine months, they really shouldn’t be so shocked.

  “Can I get you anything?” she asked, pulling my shirt over my head before ushering me into bed.

  “No. I just want to sleep.”

  “Lonna, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine…”

  “The devil you know, right?”

  Bat shook her head. I could tell she wanted to say something, but she refrained. “I’ll call you tomorrow. We have a lot to talk about.”

  “Thanks for walking me home. I’m not even sure how we got here.”

  Bat smiled and pulled the blanket to my chin. “You were on autopilot. I just followed your lead. I’ll tell your roommates to give you a little space so you can rest, okay?”

  “That would be great. Thank you again.”

  She slipped out of the room into the hallway, leaving me in the darkness. He didn’t remember? Did I really believe that? Could he have been as fucked up as I was? No way. It wasn’t possible. I begged him to stop. He was lying to cover his tracks. He was lying so he could avoid being convicted of rape. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the black spots of that night, and just as before, there was nothing but the smell of tequila and the feel of warm breath fanning across my skin. My unending nightmare.

  Bravado is a fickle thing. One minute, you’re bursting at the seams with it, and the next, there isn’t even a trace. I had become increasingly familiar with the ebb and flow of that feeling. Although it wasn’t alone. No, my bravado was accompanied by shame, anger, hurt, and the most difficult one, self-doubt.

  He didn’t remember. Those words alone were small and insignificant. But when they were put together in proper context, they were almost as powerful as “it was me.” So few words, so much impact. Was it true? It was a question that kept me up at night. I thought about all the time he and I had spent together, how he’d usually pass on a drink and his stories about staying out of trouble with drugs. Was it all a lie, something he told himself to ease his conscience? If I was willing to accept that, then I would also have to accept the fact that I really did hold some of the blame for what happened that night.

  No. No, that wasn’t possible. Being fucked up wasn’t an excuse. Was it? No.

  Who came into the room? It was another question that nagged at me endlessly. I didn’t remember anyone else in the room. Was that a lie? I scrubbed my hands over my face and let out a sigh.

  “You need a fucking cheeseburger,” Bat said, coming up to where I leaned against the brick exterior of a building.

  I barked out a laugh and looked down. She wasn’t wrong. The majority of the weight I’d gained eating at Lucky’s two nights a week had all but vanished over the last several weeks. I missed that place. I missed Pearl and Bill. But I couldn’t bring myself to go back. There were too many memories there that I would just as soon forget.

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “I’m fucking serious,” she said, her dark-rimmed eyes piercing. “You’re too skinny, and don’t think Krista hasn’t told me about you missing work and not sleeping.”

  I rolled my eyes. The two of them had become surprisingly good friends since the night Bat walked me hom
e. Well, I guess it wasn’t all that surprising. Bat and Krista were both amazing people, but that didn’t change the fact that people stared whenever the three of us were out together. Krista dressed like a Kardashian, Bat like an extra from The Crow, and me their sloppy, middle-of-the-road hot mess. I was like the female version of Pigpen from Charlie Brown. But skinny. Too skinny, apparently.

  “Maybe after the meeting, we can grab dinner,” I suggested, turning toward the entrance. It was a new place. My third new place, to be exact. I just couldn’t seem to find a fit, and no matter how nice the people were, it felt…wrong. Bat had been a saint. She hadn’t gone back to Melissa’s group since that night, even though the two stayed in touch. Melissa was glad Bat and I had each other and understood my need for change. I felt bad for pulling Bat away from the group, but every time I brought it up, she shrugged me off.

  “Same shit, different place,” she’d said. “We’re in this together.”

  She’d also dragged me to the studio to paint again. I’d destroyed my first painting, and as cathartic as it’d felt, it was also incredibly sad. Over and over, I’d tried to paint something else, and like a song on repeat, they all turned out the same. The dark place still remained, even knowing who belonged there. I finally told her maybe painting just wasn’t the answer. She suggested pottery. There were a lot of shitty-looking ashtrays sitting around the apartment now, but at least none of them had black in the center.

  The bottom line was I was trying. But as hard as I fought my way to the surface, I couldn’t break through. I felt like I was floating in this void where yes was no and up was down. Where Gavin was the love of my life and not the monster in my nightmares.

  Bat and I walked inside the building, the smell of coffee a staple no matter where we went. An older lady with a name tag that read Ginny smiled as we entered, her face warm and inviting and so much like Pearl’s. We didn’t even make it to our chairs.

  “Please tell me you’re not finished,” Bat sighed, staring at my barely touched plate of food. I narrowed my eyes and shoved a fry in my mouth, chewing with a little extra force like a child having a tantrum. She raised her brow, and I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

  “Sorry, I don’t know what is wrong with me. I have answers now, which is all I’ve wanted. But I still feel like nothing is settled. I can’t seem to figure out which direction I should go, and my life is a fucking wreck.”

  “Lonna,” Bat said, her voice taking on that tone she used when she was trying to be soft and gentle. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it was usually followed by something I didn’t want to hear. “I can’t even pretend to imagine what you’re feeling, but I’ve been to a lot of meetings, and Melissa has taught me so much. Your answers led to an entirely new level of heartbreak and betrayal. I have no comparison, and you just need to accept that you can’t fit what happened to you into Box A or Box B. You have a warehouse of boxes, and each one is complex. It doesn’t matter that they all have the same address printed on the label. One thing at a time, one day at a time. Don’t try to figure everything out at once. It’ll drive you crazy.”

  “No shit,” I mumbled.

  “And,” she said, and here it came. I should have known she wasn’t going to stop with boxes and labels. “You need to stop shutting everyone out.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about? I haven’t shut anyone out!”

  “How many times have you visited your parents, aside from Christmas?”

  I looked down at the table and swirled a fry in ketchup. “It’s just hard to see them.” The truth was, I really didn’t look so hot. The moment my mom saw me, she hit me with a million questions, even suggesting I look into drug addiction facilities in the area. I would have laughed had I not been a complete wreck. Wren had messaged me that day, telling me how sad she was she wouldn’t see me for Christmas. Gavin had told her we broke up, that it was all his fault.

  All that did was remind me of my time with him at Thanksgiving, when I’d envisioned being there with our children. New Year’s was even worse. There would be no more holidays with him, and as much as I hated him, I felt robbed of all the things our life could have been. It tore me apart. The what-ifs and could-have-beens and the fact that I even thought about those things at all. I’d rung in the new year alone in my room with a bottle of wine and my shitty pottery ashtrays.

  “And how many times have we hung out where it wasn’t me and Krista dragging you somewhere?” Bat asked, pulling me out of my wretched memories.

  “We’re hanging out now,” I said, shoving the fry into my mouth. It tasted like sawdust.

  “Because I knew you were trying another group tonight and made you give me the address,” she pointed out.

  “I’m sorry,” I sighed.

  “Here’s the thing, Lonna. We both have some dark shit going on in our lives. And as much as I hate to admit it, having you around makes everything a little less shitty for me. I need you as much as I need you to need me too. I can’t feel like a burden. I need you to be in this with me.”

  Tears pricked my eyes. “I do need you. I’m sorry if I haven’t made you feel that way. I fuck up everything I touch.”

  Bat shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re just, like, one of the only friends I have. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “You won’t,” I promised.

  “I’m going to grab a sandwich on the way home,” I said, weaving my way through the crowded street. I hated fighting my way to a place to eat after five on a Friday.

  Krista sighed into the phone. “Why don’t we go out?”

  “Because you told me earlier this week you really wanted to go to that new place opening downtown, and Brett offered to take you. So, you’re going to do that, and I’m going to grab a sandwich and go home.” I slipped inside the restaurant and let out a sigh of relief. Places that didn’t serve booze were always less crowded.

  “You could come with us.”

  I let out a small laugh. “I’ll pass. Now, let me order one of those sandwiches everyone keeps saying I need to eat more of.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.” I hung up and dropped my phone into my purse before making my way to the counter. I’d just ordered and stepped to the side when the hair on the back of my neck stood and heat rushed under my skin. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw, praying it was just the heat kicking on and not what or whom I thought it was. My prayer was not answered. The smell of cloves and cedar hit me like a Mack truck and caused my vision to swim when I opened my eyes. I heard the smooth cadence of his voice, followed by a chorus of laughter, and my stomach rolled. I had to get out of there.

  “Lonna,” a voice called over the intercom. My entire body locked into place. I looked at the guy behind the counter. His bored expression as he looked around the room was a stark contrast to the complete fucking internal meltdown I was having. Fuck the sandwich. I spun on my heel, only to come face-to-face with the person who broke then healed then shattered me in painful succession. He stood with a group of people; they were all dressed similarly, wearing Georgia Tech pullovers and khakis. The girl next to him stared up at him with an adoring smile that made my insides burn with a million different emotions. Not that he noticed. His eyes were laser focused on me, the intensity causing my mouth to go bone-dry.

  I blinked and pulled in a deep breath before hauling ass out the door. I heard him call my name, but fuck that. There was no way I was ever speaking to him again. I darted onto the sidewalk and turned toward my apartment. I only had a few blocks to go before I was safe. My heart hammered in my chest at the thought of him following me. Would he hurt me? My chest constricted, and Jesus Christ, I couldn’t breathe. A hand wrapped around my arm, followed by warm breath against my skin.

  “Lonna, wait. You left your food,” he said, breathless.

  “Don’t fucking touch me,” I shouted, wrenching my arm free as I spun to face him.

  His eyes widened, and he took a step back, hi
s hands lifted in surrender, a plastic bag with my sandwich inside swinging from his arm. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

  “You have a lot of fucking nerve speaking to me.” I blinked back tears and looked around, grateful and humiliated that so many people were staring at us.

  “I know. I’m sorry.” He held out the bag and dropped his head. “I just didn’t want you to miss your dinner because of me. I should have stayed inside.”

  I snatched the bag from his hand and sneered. “I’m so sick of people telling me I need to eat. I can take care of my fucking self.”

  “I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

  “Just add it to the list of all the other fucking things you should be sorry for.” I turned to walk away when his next words stopped me cold.

  “Why haven’t you turned me in to the police?”

  I spun back to face him, my entire body feeling as if he’d set it on fire. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

  His face crumpled, and his eyes looked so fucking sad. I hated how the sight of him made my chest ache. “I’m not.” His voice broke, and fuck him. “Lonna, you deserve justice, and I deserve to be punished.”

  I opened and closed my mouth several times, trying to explain myself and hating that I had to. “And tell them what? I don’t remember anything.”

  “But I confessed. If you turned me in, I wouldn’t fight it.”

  “You confessed to something you swear you don’t even remember doing. Do you really think your family is going to let you throw your life away? They’d make you fight, and I can’t deal with that.”

  “Lonna, I don’t give a shit what my family wants. I just want to do whatever I can to give you some sort of peace.”

  I scoffed. “Then why haven’t you turned yourself in?”

  He looked me in the eye, and when he spoke, just like the night of his confession, I knew he was telling the truth. “I tried.”